


Context

by Mibani



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Depression, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Social Anxiety, YouTube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3114167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mibani/pseuds/Mibani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[MARKIPLIER x READER] You were a simple child who in their teenage years had spent their time watching Youtube videos. You loved Let's Plays, and had fallen in love with horror games, so you started your own channel at the ripe age of 15.<br/>It's three years from then, and here you are, moving into your first apartment in Los Angeles. You're doing it for the opportunities, really. Little did you know, however, that your neighbor was going to be your idol. Time to keep of a facade to end all others, or you might just risk ruining a friendship... Or possibly more.<br/>[Updates will be slow, and I hope that you guys are okay with that.]<br/>(YT) -Youtube Channel Name<br/>(N) First Name<br/>(H/C) Hair color<br/>(E/C) Eye color</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slow Beginnings

You took a moment to look into the room ahead of you. The walls were white, and the lighting was beautiful. Mid-day sun poured in, giving the monochrome walls a warm and inviting feel that simply couldn't be replicated synthetically. You inhaled deeply, taking in that wonderful new apartment smell.

You had just arrived in your new living space, a rather spacious apartment in the heart of LA. You had moved here on a simple whim, and were super excited to begin your adventure into adulthood. You're a freshly 18 year old Youtuber with a lot of ambition and a smile plastered on your face.

Nothing can stop you.

...Except unpacking.

You sigh, having only just gotten off a plane an hour ago, you were ready to kick back and take a nap, however, it was only 11 in the morning, and your bed wasn't even built yet. Getting your priorities in hand, you walked around the spacious home, taking note of what rooms were where and how large they each were. You found the bathroom quite quickly, and from there identified what you wanted to use as your recording room.

You started small, unpacking bathroom items and setting everything just as you needed it. Only the necessities went up for now, as the decor was really going to be an afterthought. After everything was set, you moved forward, tossing the box that once contained your bathroom items off to the side, somewhere close to the door. From there, you unpacked the kitchen stuff, praying that your plates weren't broken on the way.

Well of course that was wishful thinking. Half of the plates you'd wrapped with bubble wrap didn't make it all the way from your home town. Oh well, you can't blame anyone there; roads can be bumpy. Taking care not to cut yourself, you pull out the broken shards of what was once some relatively nice dishes out of the cardboard box, improvising a spare sheet of bubble wrap as a collection method, you place said shards off to the side, planning to make them into something weird later.

Once you had the broken dishes out of the way, you took inventory of what wasn't broken. You had three bowls and seven plates out of the original five and ten you had. All things considered, it could have been much worse. As you open the cupboards, you realize that you've been working in silence this whole time! You slip your hand into your bra, and pull out your phone, which had been kept snugly between your breasts for safekeeping this entire time. You power it on, and put on your favorite Pandora station.

The music fills your ears and envelopes your whole body- you really do love music. Slipping into a rhythm, you roll your way through the rest of the kitchen and start to think about the office. When your furniture was moved in, you made it quite clear that you weren't one for heavy lifting, and asked that they place your television and couch to their best judgment, and that you'd have it fixed if you didn't like it later. So the only really big worry was getting your bed and office in place, and that included putting things together.

With another sigh, you find your way to what was considered the master bedroom with a small toolbox in hand. You weren't exactly the handy type, but your parents always were. Realistically, you had no real experience with tools and were afraid of a drill, but had to overcome it, knowing that you'd be doing this sometime in your life.

It took you about two hours to build the bed frame, and about thirty extra minutes to get the mattress in place and the bed made. It looked so inviting... but you were convinced that if you didn't get this done now, you'd never get it done. You changed stations on Pandora, and went to what you wanted to be your office with determination and new found knowledge of Ikea instructions.

Another hour down, and you had the desk up. It was rather sturdy if you were to judge. You decided in a bolt of courage to sit on the freshly constructed surface, surprised to not hear a creak or even movement. Your heart swelled with some kind of pride and a smile snuck onto your face- your dad would be proud.

You dragged over the last box, which contained your hand built PC. It was designed for you, and with the idea of video production and hardcore gaming; it's even a perfect stream machine. As you made an attempt to slip your dream machine out of it's foam case, a knock startled you, causing you to almost drop the two-thousand dollar baby you'd painstakingly created. Being painfully aware of the inner workings, you placed it down on it's side and rushed to the door.

Ripping the headphones from your ears, and stuffing your phone back into your bra, you open your clean white door, to a man who appeared to be with the internet company. You smiled, and he gave one in response, his introduction confirming your suspicions. You invited him in and allowed him to get things figured out while you made another attempt at getting your ninety pound dream machine out of it's carefully packed box.

"So, when's your man getting here?" The worker asked casually, the question made you a touch confused. You were single.

"Oh? I don't have a boyfriend." You reply with a bit of a shake, you never knew how to reply to this kind of stuff... Was he flirting with you? Was he just trying to make conversation? Was he being sexist? Only time will tell.

"Ah, I just didn't expect a gal like you to have such an advanced lookin' computer." He tosses back with a small chuckle. You wanted to reply, but decided against it as you got your monitors out and positioned them in a way you'd be able to use comfortably. From there, you finally got your beast plugged in and started hooking everything to it. The process took about forty minutes all together, but by the time you had it booted, the internet guy had things set up.

You rolled your chair over, but stopped when you had realized that you didn't have your walls covered, or your spotlight up yet. So, you stood back up on your now aching feet and began hunting for the box with all your miscellaneous bullshit in it. Said hunt only took you a few minutes, and soon enough you were setting everything up.

While you were placing your spotlight, you swore you heard a faint scream from the other room. It was muffled, and didn't feel readily important, so you brushed it off as it was. Once it was all finally figured out, you sat back down in your chair, and logged into your computer. It was by now seven twenty seven and you were done. However, you still needed to upload a video.

You sifted through some pre-recorded babble and put up a compilation of jumpscares from your Five Nights at Freddy's 2 stream, which was your going away gift to your fans. You slipped onto Youtube and began the upload as you skimmed through your Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr feed. There was a bit of fan art, which you shared/retweeted/reblogged, and also took a minute to post that you were mostly settled in. As you sent the post, you quickly noticed that you were hungry, and haven't eaten since this morning.

You chuckled, and googled pizza places nearby, ordering online from the closest one you could. You checked your upload again, and it was surprisingly done, which made you a bit happier. You took another stop on social media to announce your new video and then decided it was time to stop worrying about your channel.

You were a somewhat known Youtuber, by the alias of "(YT)". You had about 500k subscribers and really cared about each and every one of them. You spent a lot of your time reading fan mail and replying to every last one of them. You hoped that each message you sent would make someone smile-- and was it simply amazing to know that you could.

You heard the yelling again, muffled and raspy. You weren't exactly the most nosy of people, but you did tend to not like it when crazy shit was going down and you had a way to stop it. Letting your curiosity get the better of you, you put your ear to the wall that the noises came from and listened closely. There was a bit of talking that seemed loud, like they were projecting, but there really didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary. You couldn't make out any of the words, but it seemed to be one person who was just babbling to themselves. I mean, you had a Youtube channel, you knew that kind of thing very well.

The doorbell startled you, but it wasn't too bad, really. So, you drug yourself from the wall to the door, where you had kept your coat, which had your wallet. So really this was an all around convenient situation. The woman who had your pizza was bubbly and sweet, so you gave her a nice tip and a smile. Sometimes appreciating the female form was a problem for you, considering how many cute girls were out there. You divert your thoughts, that kind of thing really didn't matter right now. What did matter, was pizza.

You took a nice spot in your computer room with a slice of cheese pizza and pulled up Markiplier's latest video.

Life was really working out for you.


	2. Anxious Greetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Better go say hello to the neighbors...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year. Here's a quick bit of story progression to kick off 2015.

Your eyes forced themselves open, and you groaned in annoyance. Early morning sun slipped in through your uncovered windows, reminding you that day was something that tended to happen. You were groggy and somewhat unresponsive, your vision blurry as you sat up, trying to recollect the dream that you were so rudely forced out of.

From what can be remembered, you were sitting on the edge of a cliff, it was only about ten feet up, and there was water below you... You were naked and watching the sun from your perch- letting the cool breeze take you away... It smelt like home, and it felt so... Right.

Blink a few more times, trying to adjust to the sunlight in the room. With a huff, you pull yourself out of bed and over to a collection of boxes in the corner, which happened to contain all of your clothes. Today, you had to go shopping, as your fresh apartment had no food. You also had plans to go introduce yourself to the neighbors, as you were a Youtuber, which implied long nights of being somewhat loud while recording.

You dug through your boxed wardrobe for a few seconds, finding a Markiplier shirt that you've had for a few months. You throw it over your shoulder, and begin to look for something to go decently with it. You continue your hunt, finding a nice high-waisted black pleated skirt, and some black leggings to keep you a little more warm in the winter weather.

You get dressed in a relatively quick manner, deciding not to do anything special with your makeup/hair, seeing as you tended not to really want to. Before you leave your whitewashed bedroom, you grab your phone and check the time-- discovering that it's only ten. Perfect.

On your way out, you grab your jacket, double checking for your wallet, keys, and phone. Everything ends up being accounted for, so you waste no time stepping out into your building. You decide to start with the neighbors, as you are right here anyway. Your home is the very last on the right, and your recording room is right against the apartment at the end of the hall. Your impression is that they'd be the only people to hear you while you record, so you swallow your anxiety by limiting it to just one person you'd have to explain this to.

You lock your door and look at the last one in your hall. God you hope they're awake and also home. With a deep breath, you step forward, and raise your index finger to the doorbell. It's obviously penthouse. You take another long breath, and push your waiting fingertip into the button.

Within a few seconds, you hear the door unlock and open. You're greeted by the friendly face of a man with dark brown hair, glasses, and a very warm smile. He seems a touch confused, and almost immediately understands your careful fidgeting.

"Yes?" His voice rings out, it's deep and rich. Very easy to listen to, and really relaxing-- almost familiar. You clear your throat nervously, and your expression of nervousness seems to make his glowing smile falter.

"Hi! Uh... I'm your new neighbor, (N). I just wanted to drop by and give you a small warning about what I do!" You respond in a bubbly manner, trying to make yourself seem more confident. In all honestly you really do want to give off the best first impression you can, considering beyond the first, you're probably going to have a pretty bad time.

"Oh! Nice to meet you, (N). I was actually thinking about dropping by and saying hello today. Anyway, what were you here to tell me?" The man responds, his tone was quite animated, and that really made it easy for you to engage when he spoke.

"Uh, I was actually going to warn you that I make a full living off of Youtube, and can occasionally get a bit loud-" You stopped yourself, remembering last night a little clearer, particularly the point in which you heard yelling from his apartment. "-... Actually, weren't you yelling a bit last night yourself?"

"Well, you caught me. I'm actually a Youtuber myself. I guess I should introduce myself, I'm Mark." He pauses, and chuckles. He must have noticed your shirt. "You might know me as Markiplier."

You began to mentally scream, how did you not notice it was him on first sight?! Oh well, it can't be helped, you suppose. You give a nervous smile, not really expecting this to happen today, oh god, you really hope you're not interrupting anything.

"O-Oh! Hah... Yeah, I'm (YT)... I've been a fan for a while-- but, uh, no, that's not super important right now. I just wanted you to be aware of any yelling you might hear." You sputter out, now incredibly embarrassed and somewhat flustered by the fact that you were watching his videos all of ten hours ago.

"Yeah! No need to worry about that. I think that if anyone would understand, it would be me... Hey, on a different note, are you all moved in alright?" Mark rambles, it's almost surreal to you how this came about, but you brush it off quickly, making a choice to be more intellectual than drifty right now. You take a small moment to look at the situation realistically, and give a smile in response to his.

"Yeah. For the most part, everything's good to go. The only thing I was super worried about was my computer, and it ended up just fine... Ack, sorry, I should let you get back to what you were doing." You segway as smoothly as you can think to in your somewhat dazed state, attempting to mask your nerves in false ditsy-ness. The male seems to pick up on this, however, and leans against his doorframe.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I wasn't doing anything important. Something is rendering right now, so I'm kind of stuck at a standstill." His voice is dipping a bit now, it's just a touch more raspy than his prior speaking voice... You don't know why he's doing it, but you're not sure you can stand for it for too long... You ran a rather successful Markiplier fanblog and did not want him to put together your exact depth in the fandom this early on.

"But, I still have some shopping a need to get done... So... I-It was nice meeting you, Mark." You quickly say in hopes that he'll let you go from this anxious nightmare. You're super glad that you managed to meet him, you just didn't want it to be like this... This is... Awkward.

"Oh, well, I wont keep you then. Nice meeting you too... Uh... What was your name again? I'm sorry."

You tell him your name one more time, and he repeats it, just for clarification. You smile, and tell him a very rushed goodbye, and begin to leave. Walking quickly down the hall, practically running for the elevator, you hold a hand over your frantically beating heart and replay the moment in your head, imagining if you would have kept talking, or even if you'd said something different...

In a tiny bit of a huff, you pull out your phone and quickly compose a Tweet.

"Day 1 at my new place, I find out that @markiplier is my neighbor."

Within minutes, you begin getting feedback from your followers, things like "OMG REALLY MARKIPLIER?!" and "Pics or it didn't happen". When you check again, after you've made half of the walk to the store, you see that Mark had favorited the tweet.

What have you gotten yourself into?


End file.
